


Higher Love

by KMDWriterGrl



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 06:59:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KMDWriterGrl/pseuds/KMDWriterGrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-ep for "Coda." This story references the episode “Sacred Ground.” To better understand Janeway’s spiritual crisis as a result of “Sacred Ground,” please see my post-ep titled “Barren Ground.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Higher Love

**_“Think about it … there must be a higher love … down in the heart or hidden in the stars above … without it life is wasted time … look inside your heart and I’ll look inside mine …we walk blind and we try to see, falling behind in what could be …” -Steve Winwood_ **

Kathryn Janeway wasn’t a woman to put up with coddling or overprotectiveness, but she didn’t mind availing herself of her first officer’s shoulder to lean on as they moved back to the shuttle. The effects of the mental experience with the terrifying not-her-father-entity notwithstanding, she was feeling physically battered enough that it seemed a better option to lean on Chakotay than to require an anti-grav stretcher. 

The gash on her forehead was actually the least painful entry on the litany of bumps, bruises, aches and pains. Her throat was sore and raw from the hydrazine gas leak that had driven her and Chakotay out of the shuttle after the crash. Her rib cage ached fiercely, as if she’d been laced far too tightly into one of the corsets she’d once thought were so fun to wear as part of her Victorian holonovel. There were cuts and scrapes on her hands and arms from flying debris and she could feel a good-sized bruise forming on her hip from being thrown out of her seat during the crash—why the hell, she asked herself rhetorically, hadn’t she been wearing her safety harness? 

Her first officer could read her as well as anyone—better than most—and so didn’t offer more than a steadying arm around her waist, purposefully slowing his gait without comment to accommodate her shaking legs. Tuvok was in the lead and he, too, had purposefully slowed his walk.  The Doctor followed, taking med-scans for, she was sure, the umpteenth time since he’d landed with the shuttle. 

“We’ll need to send a team down for the _Sacajawea_ ,” she said, trying to raise her voice over the rising wind of another storm. She coughed when her throat protested but continued, “Tom and B’Elanna will be able to repair her enough for sustained flight. Or we could tractor her.”

“We have had trouble maintaining the integrity of a tractor beam because of the magnetic storms,” Tuvok reported, dropping back to walk on Janeway’s right side. “That’s why we weren’t able to immediately come to the shuttle’s aid when you took the lightning hit. Assuming the storms dissipate in the night, I will send down Mr. Paris and Lieutenant Torres to repair the shuttle and fly it back to Voyager.”

Janeway smiled a little at her Vulcan second officer. He’d managed to phrase the report in such a way that it was clear he and the Doctor would be requesting that she take some time off after the accident-- but he’d allow her the chance to say so herself rather than having to go the route of relieving her of duty.

“Thank you, Tuvok. Please make the necessary arrangements when we get back aboard.”

The Vulcan nodded, satisfied, and hit the controls to unseal the shuttle doors. 

Chakotay led Janeway to the back berth while Tuvok took the helm and the Doctor watched attentively. She hoped fervently that her first officer wouldn’t make too much of a fuss over her, at least until they were in private. She was so emotionally rocky that she wasn’t sure of her ability to keep tears at bay. 

“How about some water?” he asked. “I know I could use some.”

Janeway nodded gratefully and listened as Tuvok fielded questions about shuttle operations from the eager-to-learn hologram. When Chakotay came back with two glasses of cold water she was feeling calmer and even a little amused at the interplay between the two. 

“That hydrazine really does a number on your throat,” Chakotay commented, prompting her to sip from her glass. The cool water on her scorched throat felt heavenly. He downed his glass then returned to the replicator for another. When he came back this time, he also had several frozen gel packs in hand. 

“This should help with the pain in your ribs.” At her questioning glance, he explained, “I know I bruised them when I was performing CPR. I panicked and used too much pressure.”

Janeway stared at him, mouth open, and then recovered. “It’s all right. I’d rather have bruised ribs than not be here at all.”

Chakotay studied his hands. He looked ashamed. “I should have kept my head. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Hey.” Janeway laid a hand on his shoulder and said softly, “Chakotay, it’s FINE. I’m fine. Thank you. You saved my life.”

Chakotay bit his lip, a gesture so wholly uncharacteristic of her confident first officer that she couldn’t recall having ever seen it before. “Why don’t you lie down with those ice packs for awhile?  I’ll go save Tuvok from the Doctor.” He waited for her to stretch out across the narrow back bench and then gently opened her uniform jacket to settle the cold packs over her gray under-tunic. “We should be underway in just a few minutes.”

“Chakotay.” She caught his hand before he could walk off and waited until she had his eyes before repeating, purposefully, “Thank you.”

He nodded, squeezed her hand once, and crossed to the front of the shuttle where she could hear him explaining to the Doctor and Tuvok that she simply wanted to rest for a few minutes. 

She shut her eyes and let the familiar throb of the shuttle’s engines soothe her into a weary sleep. 

***

Janeway woke when the shuttle touched down with a slight bump in Voyager’s shuttlebay. She sat up too quickly and had to bite back a groan of pain as white lightning shot through her battered body.

The Doctor approached with his tricorder open and performed a quick scan. “Mr. Tuvok, if you would beam us directly to Sickbay so I can start treating the captain, I’d be obliged.”

“Certainly, Doctor. The commander and I will secure the shuttle and meet you there.” He turned to meet Janeway’s eyes. “Will that be sufficient, Captain?”

“Get Tom and B’Elanna started on plans to salvage the _Sacajawea_ ,” she reminded him, debating on whether or not to try standing and opting instead to remain seated. The transporters would work just as well and she wouldn’t have to test her ability to walk without wincing.

“Of course,” Tuvok replied smoothly. “Commander, if you would care to—“ He changed directions mid-stream as he caught sight of Chakotay’s expression and interpreted his colleague’s obvious desire not to leave Janeway. “—Accompany the captain to Sickbay, I can instruct Lieutenants Paris and Torres to begin the salvage operation. I do not recall that you had your injuries treated. It would be a good idea to let the Doctor scan you as well.”

Chakotay shot the Vulcan a grateful look. “Good thinking, Tuvok. Contact me with a report when you’ve brought everyone up to speed.” 

The Vulcan nodded in acknowledgment and turned back to the controls. “Beaming three directly to Sickbay.”

Sickbay coalesced around Janeway and with it Kes’s familiar, sweet face. “Captain,” the girl exclaimed. “I’m so glad you’re all right!” She hurried to Janeway’s side. 

“Thank you, Kes,” Janeway replied, happy to turn herself over to the Ocampan’s capable hands. “As you can see, Chakotay and the Doctor got me back in one piece.” She allowed the nurse to remove her uniform jacket and under-tunic and then ease her back on the bio bed. 

“Kes, why don’t you run the bio-scans on the captain and tell ME what needs to be treated,” the Doctor said, obviously in full teacher mode. Beside him, Chakotay stiffened, though Janeway wasn’t sure why until he said, “Doctor, the Captain nearly died. Don’t you think it would be better to tend her yourself?”

“Driving out the alien presence required my skill and intellect,” the Doctor replied, somewhat pompously. “Now that the immediate threat has subsided and we’re simply cleaning up the damage, I’m positive that Kes can handle it more than adequately.”

Janeway turned her head to speak to Chakotay. “I trust Kes completely, Commander. Why not let the Doctor take a look at you? Tuvok said you’ve been refusing treatment.”

“I’m fine,” he said stubbornly. 

She gave him a look that clearly communicated—she hoped—that refusing treatment was not going to endear him to her right at the moment. He seemed to get the message because he finally nodded and said, “I guess you’re right. Doctor, would you mind?”

Pleased that her first officer was starting to see reason and that she wouldn’t have to worry about him for at least the next few moments, Janeway shut her eyes and allowed the Ocampan nurse to run humming med-scanners over her. 

“Obviously we’ll need to run another series of neo-cortical scans,” Kes mused aloud, “just to make sure the alien presence has been fully driven out. You have three cracked ribs on each side of your ribcage, some bruising, and a laceration that needs some attention.” 

Using a sterile wipe, she gently cleaned the blood from Janeway’s forehead and then ran the dermal regenerator over the skin. There was the familiar tingling sensation of warmth as the blood vessels and tissues knitted themselves back together, leaving a faint tightness that would ease as the skin regained its elasticity. 

“What you really need,” Kes chided gently, “is some rest.” She activated an opaque vision shield around Janeway’s bed that would allow her to see out but wouldn’t allow anyone other than the Doctor to see in and helped Janeway pull off her sleeveless gray shell, wincing as she saw the deep bruising on the captain’s skin. “Lie still while I mend those ribs. There isn’t much I can do cosmetically about the bruising, but I can give you an analgesic to stop the pain and swelling.”

 “Thank you, Kes.”

“Of course.” Kes’s guileless smile was a welcome sight. “You will voluntarily take some time off duty, won’t you? You know how much the Doctor hates it when he has to threaten to relieve you.”

Janeway laughed then winced as the movement jarred her ribs. “I will take some time, Kes, that I can promise. I’m ready for a bath and a good night’s sleep.”

“And a meal.” Kes gave her as stern a look as her faerie-like face could manage. “Your body needs the energy to help you heal.”

Janeway nodded—it was easy to acquiesce to Kes, who she knew only ever had her best interest at heart. “A meal, too. I promise.”

Kes studied Janeway’s ribcage, frowned a bit, and finally nodded. “Wait here and I’ll ask the Doctor to come take a final look before he releases you to your quarters.” 

“Thank you, Kes. Can you check on the Commander and let me know how he is?”

Kes’s smile was just a bit too knowing but she simply replied, “Of course,” and left, passing through the vision screen to summon the Doctor.

Within ten minutes she’d been cleared to return to her quarters, analgesics and pain relievers humming through her system. Chakotay, also given a clean bill of health, accompanied her, careful to stay within easy reach but not so close as to arouse gossip. 

Once at her quarters, she didn’t even bother to ask him in—she knew he’d accompany her because he was too worried to leave her alone. And once she was through the doors and into her own space, she dropped the captain mask and turned to Chakotay, who let his own façade drop as he gathered her in his arms. 

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he murmured against her hair. 

The words came as a shock, even though she’d heard him say them over and over again with every repetition of her own death that the not-her-father being had made her witness. But she was glad to hear them, glad they were consistent, no matter what the circumstances. 

He worried for her—no, it was more than that, much more if the look on his face was any indication. It went beyond worry and into something else, something that she’d normally be afraid to approach or speak of, much less touch and examine. But now here, after nearly dying, she wanted to seize that emotion, that more-than-worry, and hold it to her, let it fill the empty spaces, spaces that were aching with the renewed remembrance, normally so well hidden, that her father was gone. 

She let herself relax into his embrace instead of attempting to keep it within proper bounds. His hands came up to rest on her shoulder blades and she could feel him fighting to keep his hold gentle. 

“You won’t hurt me,” she whispered. 

He gave in to the urge to pull her tight and close and wound his arms around her as if he could pull her into his skin. She gasped a little at the contact but then found that she enjoyed the pressure and relaxed into him.

“Kathryn.” He breathed her name, brought his hand up to tangle in her hair. “God, I thought I’d lost you.”

She didn’t reply to that but simply held on, her fingers tightening on his back. She could feel his hand move out of her hair and down to the back of her neck, where his fingers squeezed and released, squeezed and released the tension they found there until she was relaxing by degrees and finally pliant with exhaustion. 

Chakotay lifted her, carried her into her bedroom, and laid her gently on the bed before kneeling next to her, uncertain how to proceed. 

She lifted a hand to the side of his face and, guard down, too tired to hide the need in her eyes, murmured, “Say you’ll stay with me.”

“All through the night,” he replied instantly, “if that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want,” she replied, stroking her thumb across his cheekbone. 

***

They slept for a few hours, exhausted past the point of caring that they were both still in dusty uniforms. It was healing sleep, peaceful sleep, and they shared it wrapped around each other, her back to his chest, his arms around her, their legs intertwined, bodies pressed together at every point they could be. And when he woke, or she did, and drowsily took stock of the situation, they were able to simply curve back against each other and slip into sleep again. 

 When she woke again, it was, according to the chronometer, the deep hours of the night. She heard the sound of running water in her bathroom. She rose, unsteady and stiff, and undressed, tossing the uniform in the recycler, pulling on a robe, and taking her hair out of its clip before slipping into the bathroom where Chakotay was relaxing in the hot water of her entirely-too-large-for-one-person bathtub. 

When she entered, he gave her a small smile and said, “I can re-fill it for you if you’d like.”

Translation—“I can get out and leave you alone if you’d like.”

“This is fine.” Without allowing herself to think too much, she slid her robe off and climbed in to the tub, sighing as the hot water closed over her aching body. 

He let her soak before moving behind her to wash her hair, his fingers soothing as they massaged her scalp and caressed her neck. 

“We should have done this earlier,” he said softly. “You’ve probably tightened up.”

“We needed to sleep more than we needed this,” she replied. “How are you feeling?”

“Me? I’m fine. I’m still concerned about you.” He turned her gently and eyed the bruising along her ribcage, his eyes dark with sorrow and regret. “I hate that I hurt you.”

She lifted a hand to the side of his face and turned his gaze to hers. “Stop that,” she said softly but firmly. “You did what you had to do to save my life. I’m grateful. Don’t put yourself in a position of second-guessing your actions when it comes to me, Chakotay. I can’t let this happen if I know you’re going to start looking at me as something you have to keep from being hurt.”

He started to speak and then nodded. It wasn’t an argument to be had at that moment. “Will you at least let me make it up to you?”

She felt her lips turn up in a smile. “How are you planning to do that?”

He ran his fingers over her bare shoulders and down her arm as he drew closer to her. “A full body massage with warm oil. The best you’ll ever have.”

Janeway smiled, enjoying his bare chest under her hands. “For purely medical reasons, of course.”

“Of course.”

***

Chakotay was as good as his word. He did give her the promised massage. And despite their banter and easy flirtation, it didn’t turn into sex. Neither of them wanted it to yet. He was gentle with her, tender even, but the touch of his hands on her skin was reassuring rather than sexually charged. It was affirming and kind and exactly what both of them needed—to touch and be touched. His hands on her, his body close to hers, was about comfort and human contact. Either could have argued that human contact and comfort was better served through sex but neither wanted to cheapen what was happening, so they both let it be what it was becoming—a way to work through the fears and anxieties that the previous day had engendered in them, a way of connecting with the person each had nearly given up for lost.

 “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked as they sat together on her couch. His thumb played lightly over the back of her neck and she had to fight the urge to close her eyes and drift to sleep on that simple sensation. 

“I suppose I ought to … I can’t get past it if I don’t talk about it, right?”

Chakotay shrugged. “Not necessarily. If you need time, Kathryn, take time. You don’t have to talk about it right away.”

“No, I--” She sighed. 

He brought his fingers up to join the thumb, turning the light caress into a soothing rub. “I’m listening.”

She told him the story … seeing the two of them crash in the shuttle together time after time; watching herself be euthanized by the Doctor after she contracted the phage; seeing the being that was most definitely not-her-father and listening to him as he led her throughout the ship; watching her funeral; coming to the realization that seeing Tuvok, Chakotay, and the Doctor leaning over her was real and having to fight to get back to that reality. 

 He listened patiently, asking questions only when it didn’t interrupt the flow of her narrative, one hand always touching her as she spoke, a sign of support. When she finished, he said softly, “I’m so proud of you.” When she peered at him, perplexed, he continued, “For not giving in. For staying even when you knew it would be gut-wrenching for you. For fighting.”

“When I heard you tell me to fight, when you said my name … I wasn’t going to let him take me.”

He pulled her closer and pressed his lips against her temple, unspeaking. 

“Will you take me to bed?” she asked softly. “Just to hold me?”

“There is nothing in the world I’d be happier to do,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.  

***

Hold her he did, all through the rest of the night and the small hours of the morning, soothing when she inevitably woke with nightmares, whispering to her in the darkness about her bravery, her strength. 

She woke up for a few disoriented moments well after time for them to have started their bridge shifts. He interpreted her glance at the chronometer and murmured, “Tuvok’s taking care of it. You’re under orders to rest and take it easy.”

“And what about you?” she asked, rolling onto her back and wincing a bit. 

“According to the Doctor I should also be resting since the after-effects of hydrazine gas inhalation can be taxing on the body.” He used the Doctor’s inflections as he spoke. 

“Good. Then you’re to follow his orders.” 

Chakotay propped himself up on an elbow and studied her for a long moment, trying to get a measure of her mood before responding. “I plan to.” He touched her hand tentatively, relieved when she returned the hand clasp.  “I’d like to do that resting here, though, if that’s all right with you.”

She smiled and nodded, her eyes drifting closed again. “Perfectly all right … as long as you do me a favor.”

“And what’s that?” Chakotay grinned, fairly sure he knew what was coming. 

“I could really use some coffee.” She gave him such a pleading look that he couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Coffee it is--as long as there’s a meal to go with it.”

She nodded. “I’ll take that compromise.”

“Good.” He slid out of bed, trying not to reflect on how used to this he could get, how right it felt to have her next to him as he came out of dreaming and into waking. 

When he came back in to her bedroom with a tray minutes later, she was sitting up in bed, her hair still down around her shoulders, one of the few paper books she had allowed herself to replicate in her hands. 

“Wuthering Heights?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow. 

“One of my favorite ways to escape.” She lowered the book and the half-smile that he loved so much appeared on her face when she saw the breakfast tray he’d created. “My, my. To what do I owe all this?”

“To me, ‘taking it easy’ generally means breakfast in bed.” He placed the tray in the middle of the bed where they could both easily reach it. “Terellian crepes with mixed berries, egg and cheese quiche, papalla juice for those of us who don’t want to be wired all day, and half-decaf coffee for those of us who do.”

“Half decaf?” Janeway raised an eyebrow. “You’re treading dangerous ground, Chakotay.”

He grinned. “You’ll thank me for it later. You still need to rest.”

“Normally I’d argue with you but in this case I actually think you’re right.” She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. “I don’t know why I’m still so tired.”

“Do you remember how many nightmares you had last night?”

Janeway took a sip of her coffee, sighed contentedly, and leaned back. “Is this an answer I’m going to regret hearing?”

“Five,” Chakotay responded. 

Janeway stared at him, startled. “No.”

“Oh, yes.”

“I only remember waking up twice. The first time you were all ready awake. You had your hand on my forehead—you were brushing my hair back. The other time I woke you up and you pulled me up against your chest. I remember listening to your heart beating.” 

“That’s right. But there were three others. You didn’t even wake up for longer than a minute or two before you were back under again.”

Janeway sighed. “I’m glad I don’t remember those. The ones I do recall were unpleasant enough. Well--” She raised her mug of coffee in a mock salute. “Here’s to _yet another_ round of nightmares and psychological upset after _yet another_ encounter with the weird and wacky phenomenon of the Delta Quadrant.”

It was meant as an attempt at humor but it came off as sardonic, so Janeway followed up her own sarcasm with, “I’m just a brilliant ray of sunshine, aren’t I?”

Chakotay shrugged and sipped at his juice. “You’ve earned the right to be angry and upset. This certainly hasn’t been anyone’s idea of a pleasure cruise. And though we’ve all been through our share of trials and tribulations, you’ve been through more than most.”

“It isn’t a contest, Chakotay,” she replied, amused. 

“Of course it isn’t. But you can’t deny that as the captain, you do have a world of responsibility on your shoulders that no one else on this ship does. When a crewmember is injured or lost, you bear the brunt of that. When decisions have to be made about battles to be fought and situations to involve ourselves in, those are ultimately your decisions. As much as I try to help you, I know you feel that it all comes down to you. And you’re right. It does.”

Janeway raised an eyebrow. “If this is a pep talk, Chakotay, it’s gone in the wrong direction.”

He laughed. “Not a pep talk, per se, more of an ‘I understand and commiserate’ talk. Or a ‘Why don’t you go a little easier on yourself?’ talk.”

“I know you understand,” she replied softly. “You were a captain. You did have your own ship. And sometimes I forget that. I need to remember to keep that in perspective.”

“This second-guessing can wait,” he insisted firmly. “At least until you’ve rested and recovered.” He nodded in the direction of the crepes. “They aren’t going to eat themselves.”

Janeway laughed a little and picked up a fork. “Aye, sir.”

***

Despite protestations that taking it easy made her feel worse, Janeway slept on and off throughout the morning and afternoon. Chakotay stayed near her, sometimes resting beside her on the bed, other times getting up to do reports and surreptitiously take care of ship’s business. Tuvok, the Doctor, and Kes all checked in throughout the day, nodding with satisfaction when he reported that she was napping, and not a single one showing even a hint that they might find it odd that the first officer was spending the day in his captain’s quarters.  

She came out of her bedroom in the early evening and sat down next to him as he read one of his favorite novels. She’d braided her hair and was wearing off-duty clothing. A faint scent of honey-suckle wafted off of her and he breathed it in with a smile. 

“Have a good rest?” he asked, marking his place on the book padd. 

“It would be better if the unsettling dreams would stop.”

“They won’t last forever.” He slid an arm around her and was gratified when she leaned against him to rest her head on his shoulder. 

“Do you remember last year when Kes was injured in the Nekani sanctuary?”

Chakotay nodded. It had been one of the most nerve-wracking 96 hour periods of his life. 

Janeway had undergone a religious ritual in order to seek the “ancestral spirits” of the Nekani to beg for Kes’s life. She’d stayed on the planet for four days, undergoing the ritual-- a mish-mash of physically arduous tests that culminated in a poisoning by an unknown hallucinogenic toxin and a subsequent vision, all of which, according to her guide, were ultimately meaningless. The real test had been for Janeway to take a leap of faith, one that involved taking Kes back into the dangerous radiogenic field that had injured her in the first place. During the trip back into the field, Janeway later reported to her first officer what she had seen—not the ancestral spirits of the Nekani, but her own father.   

“We talked afterward about seeing my father—about whether it had been real.”

Chakotay nodded. 

“I remember hoping—some part of me was hoping anyway—that it had been real, that there was a chance to see him again. Could that hope—could that have been on my mind when the shuttle crashed? Could that have been why the alien took the shape of my father?”

“It could have been,” he said. “But there’s no way to know for sure. You said yourself that the alien told you it always takes the shape of the ones we love to lure people into its matrix.”

“But why my father? Why not Justin? Or my grandmother? Why is it always my father? That’s twice now I’ve seen him, twice I’ve been given the hope that--” She broke off, fists clenching. 

“Because you can’t let him go, Kathryn,” Chakotay replied softly. “It’s your father for you because, in your heart, you can’t let him go. And there’s nothing wrong with that. My father will always be in my heart. All of my friends and family who have passed on will be. There’s nothing wrong with keeping the people you’ve loved and lost close to you. It hurts, yes, but it’s a blessing too, for them and for us, to have them where we can always feel close to them.”

“It doesn’t feel like a blessing,” she says, casting her eyes down. “It feels like a curse. Like he’s being forever used against me so that he can’t rest and neither can I. How am I supposed to remember him fondly when all I can think of is that damn alien and his fucking matrix, trying to lure me in like a spider lures a fly using my father’s image as the bait?”

Chakotay turned fully toward her. “By knowing where the truth lies. By knowing that your father is here--” he pointed to his heart, “—and not here.” He tapped his temple. “You know as well as I do that our minds can create for us the most beautiful dreams, as well as the most horrific nightmares. But neither of those things is true—those unsettling nightmares are no more real than the most vivid daydreams or fantasies. What you _think_ isn’t the truth—what you _feel_ is.” He took her hands in his. “Does that help?”

She leaned forward until her forehead was resting against his and their joined hands were on his chest. “Yes,” she whispered. “It does.”  

It took only the barest hint of movement for him to turn his head and let his lips brush across hers. He wondered if there would be any resistance on her part and felt a rush of heat down his spine when she met his lips eagerly with her own. 

“What do _you_ feel?” she whispered. 

“Incredibly lucky to have you here with me,” he replied. He brought his hand up to the back of her neck and pulled her closer. “What about you?”

“Incredibly lucky …” She deepened the kiss until she could feel it throughout her body and wrapped her arms around his neck. “ … to be alive.”        

END. 


End file.
